


A Burn With A Low, Blue Flame

by THA_THUMPP



Series: twd s05- | rickyl drabbles [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Community: twd_kinkmeme, Drabble, Episode: s05e10 Them, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Rickyl, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THA_THUMPP/pseuds/THA_THUMPP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody's covered in little cuts, scrapes, bruises, and bug bites - it's nothing new. But the burn on Daryl's hand... well, that doesn't look like an accidental brush with heat to Rick. The storm blew over during the night, but there's still a silent one raging on inside Rick, <em>worry</em>, and when he's finally done kicking in his teeth for not saying something earlier, he gets up to go and have an overdue chat with Daryl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Burn With A Low, Blue Flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fruityandoaty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruityandoaty/gifts).



> So begins our steep descent into the world of twd-kinkmemes. The first one's always special, so of course it's rickyl.
> 
> You can find the original post **[here](http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/5396.html?thread=8042004#t8042004)**. All credit for the prompt goes to the OP who requested it. Cheers.

The storm’s long past, but the details are still fresh in Rick’s mind.

The strength and speed he rallied to help seal off the barn doors from the whistling wind. The sound of the old wood groaning from the weight of the undead and the wild currents of air. The sharp, interchanging flashes of lightning that came in blinding blues and whites. The look on Daryl’s face beside him, how they stared at nobody else but each other. The split second thought that this was the last sight he was ever gonna see. The concentration he put on the accidental overlapping of their fingers from then on. The fear he felt, the shaking of Daryl’s hands…

The _burn_.

Rick slowly opens his eyes, sensing the coming light past the shutters of the barn and Judith squirming in his arms. That little area of damaged skin and raw tissue between the webbing of Daryl’s index and thumb had been the basis of his thoughts for the whole night. It kept him up for hours after everybody else went to sleep, tossing and turning against the hay and dried fodder of the bales. Because Rick knows self-harm when he sees it. As a cop there were a couple cases, and as a father there was always that constant concern.

 _I should’ve noticed sooner._ _I should’ve tried harder_.

 _How_ has never really been an issue for Rick, but with all that’s happened over the last three or four weeks it’s beginning to be. After Atlanta, words just weren’t their strong point anymore. He tried using them on the long stretch of road, tried to get Daryl to open up to him about what he’d lost, only to be pushed away – shut out – which was technically Rick’s first clue, but he turned a blind eye thinking space was the answer. That it was what the man needed.

With Daryl it always was, and he did well in reinforcing that belief. Hanging back from the group, finding some motivation to go off on his own, making excuses to steal away for no reason but to roam. To be alone. Rick remembers the first two times Daryl slipped into the woods by himself, but after that the lines just thinned and merged into one.

_When did he burn himself? Was it before or after tryin’ to talk about Grady Memorial? What did he use? His lighter? A cigarette? Christ, was he still smokin’?_

Rick snorts silently at how he’s beginning to think like a worried housewife before inhaling deeply, taking in the heady scent of the barnyard air into his lungs as he stirs more noticeably to show he’s awake. He rolls from his side and onto his back after a beat, leaving his left arm pillowed under his daughter’s small frame as he looks around, minding the post next to his head.

Carl’s still sleeping soundly above him, features nearly covered by his hat. Maggie and Glenn are across from him, bodies closely pressed and arms mingled in a loose hug. Everybody’s face is so peaceful.

Curiosity prompts Rick to single Daryl out, but when he doesn’t see the man lolling among the straw with the others his heart anxiously flutters in his chest. He subtly cranes his neck from where he’s lain with a soft grunt, uncaring that his hair’s probably sticking in a range of directions and looking like a rat’s nest as he furthers his search. It isn’t until he spots Daryl sitting past his feet in a lonely corner of the barn – eyes drawn, knees pulled chest-level – that his pulse immediately steadies.

 _Oh, thank god._ Rick thinks to himself, completely unaware that he’s just held his breath at the notion of finding the man some other way, as he eases his head back down, shuffles Judith into his arms, and crutches up.

The thick, desiccated grass bristles beneath Rick’s weight as he carefully finds his footing and arches into a stand. Daryl immediately straightens at the noise, lifting his eyes slightly to locate who’s moving. Rick can’t see them all that well underneath the man’s unshorn mane, but takes it as a read that they’ve already met and ignores the sleep still in his legs as he wanders over.

“How long you been up?” Rick keeps his question low as he stops a few feet from Daryl, being watchful not to overstep his bounds or hover as he adjusts his hold on his daughter with a bounce.

Daryl makes a sound like he’s clearing his throat before propping an elbow on his knee and rubbing at his chin, trying to look anywhere but at what’s in front of him. That being Rick. “Not long.” He answers after a minute.

Rick hums away his temptation of saying how the dark bags around Daryl’s eyes tell another story. “Mind if we keep you company?” He juts the hip he’s just settled Judith on to show he means the two of them.

Daryl doesn’t move from where he’s sitting but gradually dips his chin. “Go a’head.”

Rick tries not to look too deeply into the man’s tone as he nods his thanks and walks closer, close enough to touch the tips of Daryl’s shoes with his. Purposely. “Here.” Before Rick motions to sit, he peels Judith from his side, holding her down for Daryl to take. “Do you think you can—”

“No.”

“Daryl.” Rick knows he’s asking for too much right now, Judith being one of the painful reminders of _her_ , but that’s also the point. “Hold her.”

Daryl’s eyes tip up with an expression of disbelief, something Rick later suspects as a contest the longer they stare at one another. But he doesn’t back down, he just waits as patiently as he can, knowing the man can’t really deny him this. And sure enough, after a few more seconds of idle movement Daryl’s giving in. He reaches past his knees and accepts Judith, bringing her to his chest like he’s had years of practice.

Rick glances over them warmly, enjoying the freedom of his hands with a few shakes before finally seating himself to Daryl’s left, one leg out, one leg bent. He stays still for as long as he can without making it obvious he’s waiting for something to happen – for Daryl to say what’s on his mind, to confide in him – but as the silence thickens he shifts his posture and pretends to scratch at a bug bite behind his ear. Lord only knows it’s one among many as he shortly steals a glimpse at Daryl, seeing how the man’s staring ahead, eyes blank, with him, but not all there.

Hoping this won’t be it, Rick lets the scene play a little longer, counting how three minutes easily becomes five and five bleeds into ten. He leans over to play with some of Judith’s chubby fingers somewhere in between, letting her grab on to his before wiggling them elsewhere like a tease. She gurgles happily through it all, the wins, the misses, and soon there’s a moment or two where everything seems precious. Like normal.

Rick would give anything for it to stay like this, but he’s quickly reminded of how different things are when he accidentally lets his hand slide over Daryl’s, taking in the feel of the man’s skin… crossing the _burn_. He manages to thumb at it once before Daryl starts pulling away, but as he weaves their fingers together in a yank that all stops. As does the thought of staying quiet.

“You can’t keep doin’ this.”

“Doin’ what?” Daryl asks, a little too sheepishly to feign that he doesn’t know what Rick’s getting at, as he tries to pull away again.

“This.” Unfooled, Rick twists Daryl’s hand at the wrist with his, exposing the burn for them both to see. “Blamin’ yourself.”

“Man, wha’do you kno—”

“I know you’re mad.” Rick manages to hook Daryl’s eyes before they try to drop, stopping whatever storm he can hear brewing in the man’s voice. “I was mad, same as you. I was _mad_ ‘cause we had her, that she was right there, with us.” He briefly nods towards the front of the barn as a visual reminder. “All we had to do was walk out that door.”

Rick looks back just in time to catch Daryl acknowledging where he’s motioned in short glances, also catching how the corners of the man’s mouth pulls down – into a frown deeper than what he’s used to. Daryl’s lips roll in next, but since he’s not biting at them like he habitually does under nervous tension Rick figures the man’s finally ready to listen. It’s about time.

“If you hadn’t pulled the trigger… I would’ve.” Rick says slowly, like it should matter. “Then I would’ve killed every single cop in that hall regardless of who they were or what role they played. Guilty by association, I’d have found a way to convince myself of that.”

“Rick—”

“You made a hard choice, Daryl.” Rick continues, wanting to finish. If he’s interrupted now, he knows he won’t get another chance. “You did what you had to, what you thought right. It wasn’t your fault… It wasn’t Dawn’s fault, either. It just happened. That’s the kinda world we live in now… _this_ is what we live for now.” He moves his eyes around the barn, then down to Judith on Daryl’s chest. “ _Who_ we live for now.”

There’s a moment when Judith perks, looking between them, and Rick feels Daryl’s hand go still in his. He squeezes it before bringing it to his lips, leaving them against the burn, that rough patch of skin probably longer than he should in a kiss. Daryl does very little to stop him, but Rick can sense that there’s some tension building. Because of what he’s saying or because of his actions? Usually he’s good at telling, but he can’t figure it out fast enough before he starts speaking again, going with what sounds right.

“Look.” Rick sighs as his lifts his mouth enough to form words. “I’m not askin’ you to accept it, but you gotta let go. If you don’t, it’s gonna drag you down a dark path, and the further you go the harder it’s gonna be to come back.” He kneads Daryl’s hand gently, feeling how both their palms are sweating and their fingers are cramping, but not caring at the same time. Because this is more important. “If you need to talk, then talk. Talk about her, talk to _me_ , get whatever it is you got goin’ off your chest. I’m good at listenin’.” Judith gurgles up at Daryl and Rick’s eyes shine at her perfect timing. “And so is she.”

No more than a few seconds later, Rick feels Daryl’s hand starting to move away. Without a fight, he lets it go and bravely sits by as the man occupies himself by brushing at Judith’s bare arms, rubbing at them instead of picking at his already raw cuticles or dirty nails. Rick would rather have it this way than see the man abuse his skin further, but it does hurt him a little that Daryl still looks a hundred miles away. Only, that hurt quickly flees once he spies Daryl gumming his bottom lip, not in a repressive manner but this time for comfort. It seems like Judith’s innocence was the last nudge the man needed to finally open up.

“Sometimes…” Daryl pauses like he’s about to clam up again, but much to Rick’s relief he continues after a hard swallow. “I dunno, man. Sometimes I find myself wonderin’ if it could’a gone another way. That maybe if I just… Maybe if I tried harder to… Maybe if we’d a’stuck with yer plan instead, she’d still be…” He shrugs an unspoken _here_ , as if the word’s still too painful to mutter out loud.

Rick understands it, but sharply disagrees with the undercurrent of guilt behind each stumble. “No. The deal was done. It _worked_ … What came after, nobody could’ve predicted that. _She_ made her choice.”

Daryl blinks hard a couple times, like he’s predicting the tears. “I keep seein’ her, y’know?” He says distantly. “On the ground, in my arms. Whenever I close my eyes I cling’ta thinkin’ it was all just a dream, that I’ll wake up and everythin’ll be a’lright. But when I open ‘em again I know it ain’t and… I…” His shoulders start trembling the longer he tries not to cry, but after some time he can’t hold the sorrow down. “It hurts.” He huffs, voice wet as he hangs his head.

“I know.” Rick reaches around to the nape of Daryl’s neck, gripping at it before soothing his fingers higher, winding them through the heat trapped beneath the man’s hair. “Believe me, _I know_.” He says again. “When Lori died, it felt like the world was ripped right from under me. I wasn’t in control of my thoughts. I couldn’t function right… You saw me. I was mixed-up, too busy tryin’ to think about the thangs I could’ve done differently than cherish what I still had in front of me.”

“This… it ain’t the same.”

“Yes.” Rick rolls his head to the side. “Yes, it _is_. We both lost somebody, somebody dear to us, somebody that had us wantin’ to fight to keep breathin’. Beth, I don’t think she’d wanna see you like this. I think she’d want you to move on. _I_ need you to move on. Just like I need you to know that you’re not alone here, Daryl.” He waits for Daryl to look at him before raising his brows, wrinkling his forehead to show he’s serious despite repeating himself in a whisper. “You’re not alone.”

Daryl stays quiet, but Rick can see his gears working over what’s been said, and really, that’s enough. He got Daryl to listen, which’s a reward in itself, something found he thought they lost. This. This closeness, this silent understanding. For now he’ll accept it, leave the man on his own and not push any harder.

“When you’re ready…” Rick squeezes what he can of Daryl’s neckline once more before getting to his knees and motioning for his daughter with a grunt. “We’re here.”

Daryl snorts through his nose and offers Judith up with something Rick stretches as a weak laugh. He wants to return it like an idiot, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t want to run his luck at turning Daryl off or getting his own hopes up that everything’s gonna be OK. So instead, he plays it safe and acknowledges it with a modest nod as he welcomes the weight of his daughter into his arms again.

After all, it’s too early to think of it as anything more than recognition. Right now, time’s the true healer and only it’ll tell.

“Get some sleep.” Rick bends forward and brushes a few strands of hair from Daryl’s eyes, looking deeply into them before laying a kiss on the man’s forehead, hearing him murmur something he doesn’t quite catch. “What?” He leans back.

“’Said I will.” Daryl says quietly. “ _Mom_.” He doesn’t see Rick’s lips underneath all that beard after they part ways, but he knows there’s a smile forming. Because he’s smiling, too.


End file.
